Chapter 6 - Shadows in the Rearview Mirror
Three weeks passed before I returned to regular patrol duty on Interstate 95.
The media storm surrounding the dismantling of the Apex Logistics syndicate had dominated the national news for ten days straight, before slowly fading into the background noise of political scandals and celebrity gossip. Federal indictments had been handed down against three corrupt bank executives, two adoption attorneys, and six low-level couriers.
But the ringleader—Victor Vance—remained uncaught. Phantom whispers placed him everywhere from the Cayman Islands to Eastern Europe.
I sat in my patrol cruiser, parked on the wide grassy shoulder near mile marker 110, watching the endless river of steel flow past in the afternoon sun.
My phone buzzed on the dash mount.
I picked it up. It was a secure text from Marissa, who was currently working with the federal task force in Washington.
“Hospital update: The twins have been placed with a vetted foster family in Evanston. They spoke their first full sentences yesterday. They asked if the tall highway cop with the blue car was coming to visit.”
A warm, heavy ache swelled in my chest. I typed back: “Tell them I’ll bring donuts on Sunday.”
I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and shifted the cruiser into drive, preparing to pull back into traffic.
As I checked my left side mirror, a dark blue sedan passed by in the fast lane—a clean, late-model Ford Taurus with tinted windows and out-of-state plates.
Nothing special. Just another car on a busy highway.
But as the sedan drew level with my cruiser, the driver turned his head slightly toward me.
He wore a dark baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.
And as he passed, his right hand lifted from the steering wheel. His index and middle fingers tapped twice against the glass of the driver’s side window.
Tap. Tap.
My foot slammed hard onto the brake pedal. I threw the cruiser into reverse, tires burning rubber against the grass shoulder as I whipped the steering wheel around, hitting the siren and flashing lights.
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“State Police Unit 412!” I roared into my radio, gripping the wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. “In pursuit of a suspect vehicle heading northbound near mile marker 111! Dark blue Taurus! Plate unknown! Requesting immediate backup!”
The chase was on. And this time, I wasn't going to let him out of my sight.
